I recently realized that I had a nearly complete chapter of this in my files, and so I decided I might as well finish it up and post it. I'm not sure if this means I'll be formally returning to this fic (for which I apologize, since this ends on a bit of a cliffhanger), but I figured I'd give y'all what I have.
4. In Which Belle Becomes a Pirate and Henry Comes To His Own Conclusions
"Miss Izzy?"
At the whispered request, Izzy looked up to see Henry standing uncertainly in front of the reception desk. Smiling, she put her pen down and gave him her full attention. "Hello, Henry. Something I can help you with?"
He fiddled with the straps of his backpack. "I wanted your opinion on something. Is Blaine around?"
"He should be in the reference section. Do you want to go find him?"
Henry nodded, and so Izzy stepped from behind the desk and led him back among the shelves. They turned a corner and saw Blaine on the floor, propped up against a bookshelf and snoring softly.
Izzy sighed and nudged him with her foot. He choked on a snore and jerked awake. "Wuzzat?"
"Alert as ever, I see," Izzy remarked. "Henry wants to talk to us about something."
Blaine scrambled to his feet, wiping a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth. "'Sup, kid?" he asked as he straightened out his shirt.
Henry glanced nervously between the two of them. "It's about the book I borrowed."
That, combined with the boy's expression, alarmed Izzy. "Did something happen to it?"
Henry shook his head vehemently. "Let's sit down. I'll show you guys."
The three of them went to the one table that the library provided for patrons (when they had patrons) and sat, with Henry between the two adults. He pulled the huge book out of his backpack and placed it on the table in front of them. Taking a deep breath to gather his courage, he said, "I think everyone in Storybrooke is a fairytale character."
This was met with silence. Izzy and Blaine shared a look over the top of Henry's head.
After a few moments, Izzy asked, "What makes you say that?"
"I know it sounds crazy," Henry said, flipping the book open. "But look at these pictures. The Evil Queen." He pointed to the page before them. "Does she remind you of anyone?"
Izzy and Blaine leaned in to examine it. "She does look rather familiar…" Izzy mused.
"Mayor Mills!" Blaine exclaimed suddenly.
"Yeah!" said Henry enthusiastically, brightening considerably now that he was sure they weren't going to flat out reject his idea. "And the Evil Queen's name is Regina, too!"
"But one similar face is hardly proof," Izzy protested. Henry's story was tugging at the side of her that longed for adventure, but practicality overruled it.
"I know," Henry replied, and flipped to a new page, a new picture, and tapped it.
Izzy narrowed her eyes at the couple portrayed at a wedding. The woman… "Mary-Margaret?"
Henry grinned triumphantly. "And these aren't the fairytales we usually hear, either. When the huntsman let Snow White go – that's Miss Blanchard – she hid out in the woods and became a thief. And she met Prince Charming – I haven't figured out who he is yet – because she tried to rob his carriage! And they have all sorts of adventures and troubles before they're finally able to get married. But then the Evil Queen casts a curse to take everyone in Fairy Tale Land to a place where no one can get their happy endings, and that's Storybrooke! So now everyone's trapped here with no memories of who they were, frozen in time until the curse can be broken!"
"How can the curse get broken?" Blaine asked.
Henry looked a little crestfallen. "I haven't gotten to that part yet. But I have started to figure out who people are! Dr. Hopper is Jiminy Cricket, and Ruby at the diner is Little Red Riding Hood!"
Blaine looked entranced. "Who are we?"
"I haven't figured that out yet, either," Henry said, closing the book. "But I'm working on it. I call it Operation Cobra. Do you guys want to help me?"
"Yes," Blaine said immediately.
"Of course," Izzy replied with considerably more restraint. "Who else have you talked to about this?"
"Dr. Hopper," Henry said. "Miss Blanchard. But you've got to promise not to tell my mom. She can't know what we're up to."
"Sworn to secrecy. Got it." Blaine mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key.
Henry grinned, sliding the book back into his bag. "You guys are awesome. Mom's expecting me so I gotta go, but I'll keep you updated." With that, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and trotted out of the library.
Izzy turned to Blaine. "You don't actually believe him, do you?"
Blaine shrugged. "Not really. But it's totally cool, and I am behind Mayor Mills being an evil queen one hundred percent."
Izzy giggled. "Can't disagree with you there."
Belle was puttering around in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She'd found a recipe book in the library and had been systematically working her way through it, with varying results. The words "I've tried something new tonight" never failed to bring apprehension (and occasionally panic, depending on the smells coming from the kitchen) to the eyes of the Dark Castle's residents.
Someone behind her cleared their throat, and she spun to see Killian leaning in the doorway.
"Something smells good," he said with a grin.
"Killian!" Belle picked up a dishrag and dried off her hands so she could give the pirate a hug. "You're back!"
"I am indeed," he said, returning the gesture with only one arm, hiding the other behind his back. "And I've brought you a souvenir."
"Oh, you shouldn't have!"
He smiled widely. "Couldn't help it, luv. I saw it and thought of you." With a sweeping bow, he presented her with a sword. It was sheathed in a simple black scabbard and seemed fairly short (but then again, so was she). The handle was wrapped in brown leather, and the guard and pommel were burnished gold. It was plain but practical, and she liked that.
"This was so nice of you, Killian," she said apologetically, "but I haven't the faintest idea of how to use it."
"I figured you wouldn't," he replied, straightening up. "So I'm going to teach you, starting tomorrow."
Almost instantly, the tales she'd read of knights and heroes and swashbuckling pirates and other such adventurers setting out into the great unknown went dancing through her head.
Killian seemed to see this in her face, because he added, "I might even be able to take you sailing sometime. There is that huge lake in the backyard, after all."
Belle smiled. She was sold.
Henry rushed into the library. He saw Blaine shelving books near the front and ran up to him. "Blaine," he whispered excitedly. "I figured out who you are."
Blaine turned to Henry, grinning. "Who?"
"I had a bit of trouble with it, but you're Captain Hook," Henry replied.
Blaine looked puzzled. "But I have both my hands."
Henry nodded. "I know, that's what gave me so much trouble! In the book, you're not called Hook, your name is Killian Jones. But Killian's a pirate in Neverland, and his nemesis is Peter Pan. I think the guy who wrote the Peter Pan book made up the hook part to make you seem more sinister."
"So, I'm a pirate, huh?" Blaine stroked his chin contemplatively. "I like it."
"Here." Henry dug around in his backpack and pulled the book out, struggling to balance it as he searched for the right page. At last he found it. "There you are," he said, holding it up for Blaine's inspection.
Blaine examined the picture and nodded appreciatively. "He does certainly resemble me. Suave, badass, dashing good looks."
"Try obnoxious," Izzy said.
The boys looked up in surprise. She'd come up beside them while they'd been distracted by the book.
"Hey, Miss Izzy," Henry said cheerfully. "I'm sorry, I still haven't figured out who you are yet."
"That's okay," she replied, ruffling his hair. "But could you two keep it down a bit? There are a couple other people here."
"Sorry," they whispered simultaneously.
"Anyway," Henry said, keeping his tone hushed, "I've got to write a paper on the state symbols of Maine. Where can I find some books to help me out? I need at least three sources."
Blaine mock saluted. "Agent Hook accepts this mission."
Izzy shook her head, smiling to herself as Blaine pretended to hold a gun and flattened himself against the nearest bookshelf, Henry following suit. Together, they crept away down the aisle, and Izzy returned to her own work.
Rumpelstiltskin had just finished brewing a potion that could turn people into llamas when he realized that he hadn't seen Belle in a while. Usually, she'd have already come in with a cup of tea and a lecture on how he doesn't eat enough or rest enough or he should open the window because it's so stuffy in here how are you even breathing?
Curiosity piqued, he teleported down to the dining room. It was empty, and so was the library, as well as the kitchen, ruling out her usual haunts.
Then he heard clacking coming from outside, and made his way out into the garden. There, on the lawn, was Belle, holding a stick and sparring with Killian. He couldn't hear them quite clearly from this distance, but it seemed like Killian was giving her instructions. He strode towards them, and as he approached he could pick up Killian's words.
"You've got to remember it's not about strength," he was saying. "I know it's tempting to just sort of hack, but swordplay is just as intellectual as it is physical. So try it again – don't swing from the shoulder, you need a bit more control…" He trailed off as Rumpelstiltskin drew up alongside them.
"Rumpel!" Belle said, grinning from ear to ear. "Killian's teaching me how to swordfight!"
Rumpelstiltskin couldn't curb the stab of jealously that shot through him. He'd noticed how close the pirate and his housekeeper had gotten, and had grown increasingly envious of their relationship. Of course she enjoys spending time with him – he's charismatic, good-looking, adventurous…
Everything Rumpelstiltskin was not.
He mentally kicked himself. Why was he comparing himself to Killian? Why did it even matter how much time Belle spent with the pirate? She was just a housekeeper. That's all. Doesn't matter. Nope.
"Why on earth would you need to know that?" he asked, trying not to growl. From the look Belle shot him, he hadn't quite managed to be civil.
"I don't see why not," she replied, arching an eyebrow at him.
He tried to swallow his bile and smiled thinly. "Well, as fun as this seems, I believe you have some chores to attend to." With that, he spun on his heel and began to march away.
After a few moments, Belle caught up with him. "What was that about?"
"What?" he snapped.
"Rumpel." She snagged his sleeve, drawing him to a halt. "Tell me what's the matter."
"The matter?" He sneered. "The matter is you're shirking your responsibilities to fool around with our dear resident pirate. I didn't hire you to frolic in the fields."
She gaped at him.
Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. "I've been lax about how you go through your duties, and now it seems you've forgotten why you're here. Don't let Killian make you think that I'm a pushover who will just let you do what you like. Maybe I should move you back into the dungeon, just to remind you exactly who you work for. So go scrub some pots or something before-"
There was a loud smack, and it took him a second before he realized she'd slapped him. Now it was his turn to stare.
Her eyes were bright with hurt. "I don't know what's got you so angry, but you've no right to take it out on me. None of those things are true, and you know it. I'm sorry I slapped you, but maybe it will knock some sense into you." She was standing ramrod straight, her hands clenched at her sides. "If you need me, I'll be scrubbing some pots or something."
He couldn't help flinching at the way she flung his words back in his face, and she shoved past him, storming to the castle and slamming the door behind her.
He stood there for a while, prodding absently at his stinging cheek. Killian came up and clapped him on the shoulder. "You screwed up, mate," he said.
"Yes," Rumpelstiltskin snarled, fixing Killian with his best glare. "I noticed."
"I'd apologize, if I were you," Killian said.
Rumpel pushed the pirate's hand away and vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.
It was evening, and Belle was curled up in the window alcove in the library, reading a book. She heard the door creak open, and someone shuffled into the room. A glance from the corner of her eye revealed it to be Rumpelstiltskin. She stuck her nose into her book and furiously pretended to still be reading.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
She ignored him.
Tentatively, he approached her, stopping a few feet away and coughing into his hand.
She turned the page.
He sidled a little closer. "I…" he began.
Still, no response.
"I'm, uh…" His hands fidgeted. "You're right. That was uncalled for."
At last, she looked up at him.
He watched her desperately, waiting for some sort of reply.
"I've been thinking," she said slowly. "It has to do with Killian, doesn't it?"
"What?" he croaked.
"The reason you were angry," she said. "It's something about me and Killian." She considered him. "You're jealous of him."
He coughed again, looking away. "I've no idea what you're going on about."
She slid to her feet. "It's okay, Rumpelstiltskin." Smiling, she added, "I accept your apology. Just don't do it again." Standing on her toes, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
It wasn't until she'd brushed hurriedly past him, red-faced, and out of the library that he realized she'd just told him what to do. He was about to start after her, tell her he might have apologized but she couldn't just order him around in his own home, but paused, lightly touching the spot she'd kissed him, and decided he'd let it slide this time.
Rumpelstiltskin took to watching Belle and Killian from his tower study, which had a nice view of the estate and the lake in the distance. After their… discussion a week ago, he'd found it a bit easier to suppress bitterness towards the pirate, though he wasn't sure why. She hadn't said anything that gave him reason to believe she wasn't interested in Killian. Maybe it was the way she'd smiled at him, or maybe it was his own wishful thinking.
In any case, things had settled into a kind of routine. She'd do her chores, bring him his afternoon tea, and then head outside to learn some swashbuckling, as Killian had begun to call it. Belle was a quick study, and was rapidly arriving at her teacher's skill level. He felt a strange surge of admiration as he watched her crack Killian in the ribs with her stick (she'd learned that the pirate had a high pain tolerance and would hit her back if she stopped to apologize). She was truly something extraordinary.
If he hadn't been tuning in with magic, he would have missed Belle's shout of, "Hey, Rumpel!"
In seconds, he was out in the field with them. "How may I be of assistance?"
She exchanged a glance with Killian. "Do you have… building supplies?"
He blinked, taken aback. "I do. Why?"
She and Killian shared another look. "It's a secret," Belle said.
He arched an eyebrow. "Seriously, dearie?"
She lifted her chin. "We'll tell you when we're done."
He shook a finger at her. "Not the point."
"C'mon, mate," Killian said. "Just give us a few weeks."
Rumpel narrowed his eyes. "I don't like people keeping secrets from me."
"But you keep plenty yourself," Belle pointed.
Rumpelstiltskin scowled. "There's a difference."
"The difference is this is harmless," she said.
He paused. Touché. After a moment of looking back and forth between their pleading faces (Killian was pulling over-the-top puppy eyes), he sighed and said, "Shed next to the garden. Try not to break anything."
As soon as his back was turned, Belle and Killian high-fived each other.
"Miss Izzy," Henry whispered.
Izzy looked up to see Henry peering over the reception desk at her.
"Hello, Henry," she said with a smile.
Henry glanced around and then leaned in conspiratorially. "I finished the book," he said.
She leaned forward as well. "And?"
"Snow White and Prince Charming had a daughter named Emma, who they sent to our world through a magic wardrobe. According to Rumpelstiltskin, she's the one who is going to break the curse."
Izzy arched an eyebrow. "Rumpelstiltskin? The guy who spins straw into gold?"
Henry nodded. "Except he does way more than that. He's the one who created the curse for the Evil Queen. But he doesn't like her, so he left that loophole." He bit his lip. "I haven't figured out who he is here, yet."
"Can I see a picture?" Izzy asked.
Henry quickly tugged the book from his bag and flipped it open to a page near the end.
"Ah," said Izzy. "I can see why you're having difficulties."
Henry fell silent, fingering the edge of the page. Something was obviously troubling him.
"Is everything alright?" Izzy asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
The boy opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. After another long moment, he said, "I think…" He took a deep breath. "I think Emma from the book is my real mom."
Dismay washed over Izzy, and for the first time she wondered if it had actually been a good idea to indulge Henry and his "Operation Cobra." She hadn't realized how involved he'd become, and with this revelation, it seemed to be becoming borderline unhealthy. But she had to treat the situation carefully. "What makes you think that?"
Henry's head was bowed over the book. "I know you don't really believe the stuff I'm telling you, and Blaine doesn't either. Nothing I can do will convince you until the curse is broken, but it's true. I've always felt something was weird about this town, but I could never name it. Have you noticed I'm the only kid here who advances in grades? Everyone around me is staying the same age, while I grow up. This town is stuck in time, but I'm not affected, because I'm not from here."
Izzy's head was suddenly feeling stuffy. "Henry, that… that can't possibly be right." She tried to look at him, tried to think, but she couldn't focus. Something in his words was resonating with her, something about time… Henry had been a baby when Mayor Mills had adopted him, and now he was ten. That was right. But when she thought of the other children, she couldn't remember them as any other age. Could she? Were their faces all the same while only Henry's changed? That couldn't be right. It couldn't.
"Miss Izzy?" Henry's alarmed voice broke through the haze, and Izzy snapped back into reality. What had she been thinking about? The past few minutes were a blur. When had Henry gotten here?
"Sorry, Henry," she said, putting a hand to her forehead. "I must not have slept well last night. Did you come here for something?"
Henry looked at her, then at the open book in front of him. "No," he said slowly. He closed the book and slid it back into his backpack. "I got what I needed. Have a good day, Miss Izzy."
"You too, Henry," she replied, watching him walk out the door. Her pounding headache faded, and she returned to her work.
Henry turned the corner, headed for home, and then he stopped. He clenched his hands on the straps of his backpack. His interaction with Miss Izzy had finally fully confirmed his suspicions. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that the curse was real, and it was up to him to bring Emma to Storybrooke.
